things i might have written about, but didn’t

dreams, the deferring of.

ennui, feelings of.

grandmother’s death, the year anniversary of, when my grandfather stopped talking mid-sentence, pointed at the clock, and said, “six o’clock.  one year.  anyhow, they took us to the park the other day…”

hair, the purpling of.

jobs, part-time/freelance web and writing, and whether or not they will make me feel better about my life.

love, the expressions thereof.

malaise, general.

men and women, whether or not they can actually be friends.  i’m on the fence at this point.

one-month anniversaries, happy.

phone conversations, which are nice but don’t do justice to being there in person.

transvestites, the ones walking down the street at noon pushing a shopping cart full of beer.  “oh, what a cute dog!” one of them said.  “it’s my birthday!” another said.  “open the door, bitch,” the third one said, “and don’t drop the beer, goddammit.”

valentine’s day, and how it’s dumb.

wine tastings, like the time we had one at the restaurant, and the wine rep asked us what we thought each sample tasted like, and i kept saying things like “baby wipes!” or “green beans!” or “paper clips!” thereby pissing him off.

writing, my alienation from.